


Promise

by ItsAnOvercoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, spoilers for 10x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAnOvercoat/pseuds/ItsAnOvercoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas made Dean a promise - one that he had no choice but to keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned, major spoilers for the most recent episode, 10x09 (The Things We Left Behind). 
> 
> Thanks to my amazing friend Mackenzie for looking over this for me! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned or used below are my creations.

_“If I do go darkside, you gotta take me out… Knife me, smite me, throw me into the friggin’ sun – whatever. And don’t let Sam get in the way because he’ll try. I can’t_ _go down that road again, man.”_

 

Cas desperately tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he strained his eyes to see the blurring streetlights through the icy windowpane. Beside him, Claire Novak slept, lulled to sleep by stress and the dull roar of the engine.

In the front, Sam and Dean said nothing as the former kept his eyes resolutely on the road. After leaving the cabin, Dean had silently consented to his younger brother driving them back to the bunker. Nobody had to argue, but Cas wasn’t entirely sure that anyone would have if necessary.

How he wished this borrowed grace would be ripped from his chest. His heightened senses were overwhelmed by the scent of blood coming from the man in front of him. Cas had half a mind to dive over the seat and throttle Dean, demanding to know how the hunter could give into the Mark’s urges _so easily._ Another part of him understood how much pain Dean had been in. He wanted to wash away the blood and tell his friend that everything would be all right.

He wouldn’t, though. His promise lingered in the air, trying to crush the two who held it over their heads.

When they arrived back at the bunker, Cas woke Claire and led her inside. She looked around the gaping opening before wordlessly allowing her guardian to lead her to an open bedroom.

“You can sleep in here for the night,” Cas said, holding the door open for her. “Tomorrow, we can discuss where to go from here.”

“Thanks,” Claire’s usual spunk had been killed, leaving her obedient and monotone, “for everything, I guess. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“So am I,” he murmured, staring at the floor.

“Castiel?” Claire asked, waiting for him to look up to continue. “Is, uh, is Dean usually like that?”

Cas was expecting the question sooner or later, but he still was without an eloquent answer. “No,” he said after a long pause. “Not since recently. Dean is not a violent man, he’s just been… cursed, I suppose is the appropriate word.”

Claire nodded. “Well, are you guys going to be able to cure him?”

“I used to believe so, but now, I’m afraid I’m not so sure.” He left, not bothering to wait and see if Claire would respond. He longed to go to bed, but his feet brought him to the library tables, where the Winchesters wordlessly sat across from one another, refusing to make eye contact.

“How’s Claire?” Sam asked. Cas realized just how prominent the bags under the younger brother’s eyes were getting.

“She’s in bed,” Cas replied. “Tired, but otherwise unharmed.”

“Surprised she didn’t try to hitchhike away from us like last time,” Dean said. The sentence seemed to be intended as a joke, but the words passed his lips mirthlessly.

Cas glanced around the room, deliberating his response. “I think she’ll stay with us for a while now. We’re the only protection she has left.” He swore he saw Dean flinch out of the corner of his eye. “Not that Randy would have been good for her, given a different outcome,” he added quickly.  Neither of the two continued the conversation.

After what felt like hours, Dean stood up. “I’m going to my room,” he said.

Cas looked on as Sam watched, his mouth twitching as if he had something to say. Rather than confronting his brother however, he just sighed and nodded. “Try and get some sleep.” 

  
“We’ll see.” Dean lumbered to the exit, but paused, looking back. “Hey, Cas, mind coming with me?” His eyes briefly flitted over to Sam. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Alright.” Cas’ stomach dropped and his mind swelled with dread, but he followed Dean upstairs to his bedroom nonetheless.

Once they both were inside, Dean closed the door behind them and sat down heavily on his bed. He hummed some tune unknown to Cas as he removed his shoes, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor.

“You remember what we talked about at the diner?” he finally said.

Cas swallowed. He desperately wanted to say no – to deny promising any action to Dean. _I don’t remember_ bubbled up to his lips, but he stopped himself. Dean always knew when he was lying. This time would be no exception.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I remember, but I’m not sure if I want to continue keeping my promise.”

Dean’s head snapped up in his direction. “Cas, did you _see_ what I did in there? I may be gone, but I’m not too gone to know that I didn’t have to kill those sorry bastards.”

“I know that,” Cas argued. “However, maybe we shouldn’t give up so easily. We should focus our energy on finding a way to fix this, Dean.”

“We already tried that, or did you forget that span of time when I was a _demon?_ I tried to kill my _brother._ ” Dean turned away. “Hell, you should’ve just offed me then.”

Indignation made the angel swell and he flexed his fingers, trying to force himself to relax. “But you didn’t kill him, Dean. I stopped you. We were able turn you human again, so who’s to say we won’t be able to find a way to remove the Mark?”

He watched as Dean picked at the ancient insignia burned onto his forearm, scarring the soft skin. “It’s been months, Cas. Just admit that it’s too late, already.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Dean!” Cas snapped. He continued when Dean opened his mouth to argue. “I’m aware of what I promised you yesterday, I can assure you that, but I don’t want things to end this way. I know you feel the same.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before his shoulders slumped forward. “You’re right, man. I don’t want things to end this way. They gotta, though. That’s just how things are. There’s no cure for this thing and I’ve done what I needed to do. Abaddon’s dead, Metatron’s stuck in whatever shithole you threw him in, and you and Sam are safe.” His lips twisted in a cruel smile. “I think we both now my story’s coming to an end.”

“And what if I care for you too much to kill you with my own hand?” The words tumbled out of Cas’ mouth before he could stop himself. Dean stared at him and he held his breath, waiting for a response.

“Then do it _because_ you care for me. I can’t keep living like this, Cas.” On the last few syllables, Dean’s voice broke. He quickly cleared his throat. “I keep going like this, I’m going to turn right back into a demon. Yeah, sure, Metatron killed me and that’s exactly what happened, but you’ve got your angel mojo back. Doing something with that should do the trick, right?”

Cas was certain that he was right, but couldn’t admit it. The tips of his fingers grew numb and his heart raced. He felt the uncharacteristic urge to let out a wail once he realized all of his options had indeed run out.

“Do I have to do it now?” he whispered.

Dean shook his head and Cas swore he saw sympathy glowing in his eyes. “No, not if you can’t. You used enough of your powers today and you’re probably exhausted. It’s just gotta be done soon, okay?”

Instead of answering, Cas said, “You seem exhausted yourself.”

“I am.” Dean laid back. “Maybe I’ll get one last bit of shut-eye, y’know?” He closed his eyes.  
  
“Are you sure you’re comfortable with dying?”

“At this point, I can’t think of anything better for all of us. ‘Sides, what better way to go then in my own home on my own terms, right?” The conversation ended and soon, Dean had drifted off to sleep.

Cas gazed down at Dean, listening to his soft snores. He counted out the smattering of freckles across Dean’s face, tracing his own pictures and patterns, some shattered apart by faint scares of conflicts long past. Cas wondered what these constellations would have been named if they had been drawn in the heavens.  He lifted a hand to shake Dean – to wake him up and see those unbelievably beautiful green irises one last time for the night, but he stopped himself. Dean was always most comfortable when he slept.

The angel couldn’t help but smile at the look of sheer contentment across Dean’s face, nearly giving him the appearance of a child. Cas had seen him like this many times (much to Dean’s chagrin), but that exact moment felt different. He swallowed thickly and wondered when his vision had blurred so much.

Perhaps he should wake Dean. Wake him and tell him just how loved he was.

 _No,_ Cas quickly drew his hand over his face, wiping away salty tears. _It’ll only make this harder._

Softly, he shifted his body away from Dean. The metal of his blade burned as it appeared in his shaking grasp. He let out a long breath, which turned a cold laugh. How appropriate that the one who dragged the Righteous Man out of Hell would be the same to plunge him right back in.

He flipped the fabric of Dean’s over shirt over, brushing his thumb over the still-beating heart. He situated the blade in his hand, unable to control his trembling frame. Seconds before the silver metal pierced Dean’s heart, Cas heard a soft _thank you_.

His mind a fog, Cas went through the remaining motions numb. He placed hand on Dean’s forehead, feeling the soul still remaining in the lifeless body twisting and shrieking, corruption turning it black. Cas stood there motionless until Dean’s soul gave one final cry before settling into the familiar darkness. Before it could take hold, the angel quickly expelled the demon, leaving nothing but the bare vessel of the man who had sacrificed his all.

From the library, Sam heard an angel’s strangled cry. He closed his eyes, praying his brother’s end had been painless.

 

 

 


End file.
